All this time, I had been wondering when I would finally get the hell out of this training. I knew I was going to fight something. People don’t train like they are facing an army of wooden dummies for fun, but I never imagined it would be an actual war.

  “So,” I said slowly, “I’m going to fight for the Shiena Kingdom, and my enemy is the Emavia Empire?”

  “Yea.”

  “And I’m a weapon made by the Shiena Kingdom to help them win, because they’re losing so badly.”

  “Yea.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I mean, I understood why they wanted to create super weapons. That part made sense. What I didn’t get was, why me? From the way things looked, they could have just sent a hundred of those training dummies and won. Or better yet, just send Instructor Demo himself. From the sound of it, he was already a super weapon.

  “There’s a reason why we ain’t usin’ people like me,” Instructor Demo said. He tried to smack my head with his iron crane, but I was ready this time and blocked it with my arm.

  He clicked his tongue. “Stupid trainin’. Now I can’t even hit yea.”

  “Yeah,” I said, grinning. “And stupid teacher for actually teaching me all this.”

  Despite how he had beaten me half to death on the first day, and many days after that, it was surprisingly calming being around him now. Mostly because he actually fed me real food. Unlike the woman in the white gown, Emma, as I later found out, who always handed me things that tasted like energy bars.

  “Anyway,” Instructor Demo said, standing up. “Ye were a real pain, not bein’ able t’use magic.”

  “Uh… what’s magic?”

  I had been asking that ever since he started throwing around words like mage, magic, mana, and Order.

  “An unnatural phenomen’ ye can control with a wave o’ yer hand, long as ye’ve got mana.”

  He then launched straight into a lecture about the Order system.

  Apparently, it was a ranking system for mages. 1st Order through 10th Order, weakest to strongest. 1st Order meant awaking themselves as a mage and could sense mana. 2nd Order let mages produce small magic, like fireballs or icicles. 3rd Order was proper spellcasting such as Attack spells and Defense spells. 4th Order covered advanced magic like Siege spells, Snipe spells, and Field spells.

  5th Order was where things got serious. That was when a mage could awaken something called Wild Magic, an ability unique to the individual, impossible to copy, and usable only by its owner.

  “’Course,” Instructor Demo said, “they call it Wild Magic ’cause ye don’t even need to be 5th Order for it to pop up. Sometimes it shows itself when ye’re only 1st Order. Sometimes it shows up even if ye ain’t a mage at all.”

  He snorted and continued, “Still takes mana to use, though. An’ every poorsod’s got mana.”

  Instructor Demo then gave me a strange look. “Except ye.”

  “Wait,” I said, my stomach dropping. “You mean I can’t use magic?”

  “Yea.” Instructor Demo just shrugged. “Dunno what’s wrong with ye. Might’ been a prob when the’ made ye.”

  My heart sank at his words. I had always thought magic would be mine someday: to soar through the skies, to go underwater without needing to breathe, to tear the earth open and vanish beneath it, to bend the world itself to my will.

  All of that vanished in an instant, like smoke caught by the wind.

  “But I could awaken Wild Magic!”

  “No.” Instructor Demo crushed that hope as he snorted. “Awakenin’ Wild Magic when ye ain’t 5th Order is one in ten thousand, if not, worse. An’ even then, ye still need mana. Ye don’t have any.”

  He jabbed the tip of his iron crane at me.

  “Wild Magic runs on yer own mana. Can’t borrow it like other spells.”

  “…Okay…”

  “Good.” Instructor Demo turned and started heading for the exit, then stopped and glanced back. “Wha’ are ye doin’? Come here.”

  “Huh…?”

  “I said come here.” He jerked his head toward me. “Startin’ today, yer a Warrant Officer servin’ in the 9th Corps of the Shiena Kingdom.”

  “…”

  I blinked, my mind lagging a second behind his words. My heart started pounding hard. Free. I was finally getting out of this room.

  I didn’t know whether I should be happy, considering I was being sent straight into a war. But still, my chest felt tight, buzzing with something close to excitement. I was finally going outside. Finally seeing the world I would only imagined while getting beaten half to death every day.

  Instructor Demo scratched his beard, then looked at me from the corner of his eye.

  “Yer want a name or not? Can’t keep callin’ ye Nine forever.”

  I nodded without thinking. It had been a year since my name from Earth had slipped out of my mind. At some point, I stopped trying to remember it because it would only bring back pain. Letting it go hadn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Maybe because this place had already taken everything else first.

  “Aria.”

  Instructor Demo stepped closer and placed his hand on my shoulder.

  “Yer name is Aria.”

  Aria.

  That was my name from now on. Aria.

  [(0)]

  Lieutenant General Cedric Airviss was having an exceptionally bad day.

  Word had just arrived from the capital that no royal soldiers were coming to support the 9th Corps, except for a handful of 3rd Order mages freshly graduated from Mage Academy with no military experiences to speak of.

  That was it.

  Cedric had once been a full General. That had been before the spectacular failure against the Imperials, and holed up inside Fort Kespare. The defeat had cost him his rank, and the capital’s goodwill along with it. Since then, resupply had been sparse and support was even worse.

  It wasn’t as if he had wanted to lose. 35,000 against 80,000 wasn’t a battle. It was a funeral waiting to happen.

  To make matters worse, Cedric was already pushing sixty. Once, they had called him the “Moon Bringer”, a man who could dominate a battlefield through sheer presence alone. That had been in his younger days. His body no longer listened the way it used to, no matter how much his mind insisted otherwise.

  “I simply can’t stand those nobles,” Cedric muttered as he struck his lighter artifact, a brief flicker of flame igniting his cigarette. “They know nothing about war.”

  “My lord, I would advise you to stop smoking,” a voice beside him said calmly. “It would be detrimental to your health.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Bah.” Cedric chuckled, the sound like a good-natured grandfather. “You were supposed to join me and curse the nobles, not worry about me dying.”

  The man beside him, Colonel Devon, didn’t laugh.

  In his late thirties, with neatly cut dark blue hair and a sharp expression, Devon was Cedric’s aide. He carried himself like a man who lived to correct mistakes, and he had the reputation to match. Infamous for chewing out soldiers over the slightest breach of regulation.

  Unamused, dedicated, and utterly humorless. In short, the exact opposite of the man he served.

  “But there is good news, my lord,” Devon said as he pulled a letter from his pocket. “According to Instructor Demo, the homunculus assigned to the 9th Corps has completed training. It will be sent alongside the mages and should arrive in roughly two weeks.”

  “Hah… that man.”

  Cedric let out a long sigh, memories from two years ago surfacing back. Back when the homunculus project began, every corps on the front lines had been ordered to halt their offensives and dig in, all of them waiting for their so-called super weapons to finish training.

  Two full years of waiting.

  “I still don’t understand why your brother needed a whole damn two years,” Cedric grumbled. “Two years, and training dummies worth ten years’ worth of taxes.”

  He flicked ash from his cigarette.

  “Meanwhile, we grab farmers and miners, shove a spear in their hands, give them two weeks of drills, and call them soldiers.”

  The bitterness in his voice wasn’t directed at Devon. It was aimed squarely at the kingdom itself. Devon was just about to respond when a rapid knock rattled the door.

  “Come in,” Devon said.

  The door flew open, and a messenger stumbled inside, breathless.

  “I–I apologize, sir! The Imperials have begun their siege!” he reported, then swallowed hard. “Their mages have started casting siege spells on the walls!”

  “Damn it,” Cedric muttered as he pushed himself to his feet. He turned to the messenger without hesitation. “Tell the armorers to bring me a spear.”

  From a nearby case, Cedric pulled on a pair of worn leather gloves. Emerald-like gems were set into the backs of each hand.

  “My lord…” Devon said carefully as they started toward the walls. “Are you sure?”

  Cedric didn’t slow his pace.

  “We need to buy time until that homunculus reaches the fort,” he said as they passed rows of hurried officers, each snapping a salute as they rushed by. “But as long as they keep pestering us with siege fire, we don’t stand a chance.”

  Devon wanted to argue. He had a dozen objections ready: tactical, logistical, rational, but he swallowed them all.

  There were barely 5,000 men left inside the fort meant to hold over 100,000. The enemy had over 30,000. If there was any way to stall the Imperial advance, it was by crippling their elite forces. Their mages.

  It didn’t take long for Cedric and Devon to reach the walls.

  The battlefield unfolded beneath them. Massive boulders arced through the sky, hurled from enemy catapults, before slamming into the fortress walls with thunderous force.

  Moments later, Siege Spells cast by Imperial mages followed. Wide arcs of fire washed over the walls, exploding on impact. Dense spears of stone shards slammed into the walls, while compressed air rippled outward, cracking masonry and throwing soldiers off their feet.

  Soldiers scrambled to extinguish fires or return fire as arrows and other projectiles rained down relentlessly.

  Two accompanying mages, both 4th Order, raised their staffs in unison. Barrier Spells shimmered into existence, invisible shields wrapping around Cedric and Devon as they surveyed the battle.

  “At least 500 enemy mages, sir!” a messenger shouted as he ran up the wall. “We’ve also sighted one thousand knights stationed in the rear, ready to charge the moment the gate falls!”

  Cedric’s expression didn’t change.

  “Tell our mages to prepare Snipe Spells,” he ordered calmly. “They fire at mages the moment I throw the spear.”

  The messenger saluted before carrying out the orders. A moment later, heavy grunts echoed behind them.

  Four massive men struggled forward, each easily over two meters tall, muscles straining as they carried a long, reinforced metal box between them. Sweat poured down their faces, veins bulging as their strength drained just from holding it.

  The spear inside was heavy.

  Cedric glanced back briefly.

  “Please tell me, Devon, that the orders from the dwarves and elves have arrived,” he said, his voice low. “These spears were forged specifically for my Wild Magic. I only have three left.”

  Devon shook his head, grim.

  “Unfortunately, no, my lord. A group of sea monsters appeared along the trade route. The shipment from the dwarves, along with the replacement gloves from the elves, won’t arrive in time for another month.”

  Cedric let out a slow breath.

  “Then,” he said quietly, pulling on his gloves, emerald gems glinting faintly, “we’ll make do with what we have.”

  Cedric reached for the spear.

  It was almost funny how easily he lifted it with one arm. The four men who had carried it collapsed where they stood, gasping for breath, their hands trembling as if they had just hauled a tower instead of a single weapon.

  Cedric didn’t spare them a glance.

  He raised the spear toward the sky. The emerald gems embedded in his gloves glowed faintly, then brighter, as mana flowed through his arms and into the weapon. The air around the spear began to hum, a low, vibrating sound that made the hairs on Devon’s neck stand on end.

  Wild Magic had awakened. Cedric’s eyes narrowed.

  There.

  A massive lightning bolt tore through the sky, hurled by a coordinated group of Imperial mages. It screamed forward at impossible speed, a spear of pure destruction aimed straight at the fortress walls.

  Cedric exhaled once. He stepped forward, planted his feet, and threw.

  For a heartbeat, the world slowed.

  The spear cut through the air, silver light trailing behind it. The lightning bolt met it head-on. Any normal weapon would have been vaporized instantly.

  Instead, the spear split the lightning apart.

  The bolt was torn in two, its power instantly fading away. The spear didn’t stop. It pierced through the spell, through the battlefield, and straight through the chest of the lead mage.

  There was a fraction of a second where the mage’s eyes widened in disbelief. Then the spear detonated.

  A violent burst of silver energy swallowed the surrounding mages, the explosion tearing the formation apart. Bodies were thrown like dolls, spells collapsing mid-cast as screams echoed across the battlefield.

  “The Moon Bringer is here!”

  “Every mage! Barrier Spell, rea—!”

  The Imperial mages tried to cast counter spells, but it was too late.

  The silver energy didn’t fade. It surged upward, climbing higher and higher until it vanished into the clouds themselves.

  For a moment, everything went quiet. Both allies and enemies tilted their heads back, staring upward as the clouds began to glow. A thin line of silver light cut across the sky.

  Then, the clouds split open.

  Moonlights poured down like a blade, crashing into the battlefield in a blinding cascade. The ground shook and the air screamed. Entire sections of the Imperial’s siege line vanished beneath the silver light.

  When the light finally faded, a massive scorched scar remained where the Imperial mages had once stood.

  “Now! Use Snipe Spells. Take out the remaining mages!” Devon shouted.

  Spells were fired instantly.

  Mana missiles shot across the battlefield, detonating as they found their marks. Moments later, the fortress roared to life. Catapults fired, ballistae snapped, and a storm of arrows rained down upon the enemy ranks.

  The Imperials, thrown into disarray by Cedric’s Wild Magic, fell into chaos. Orders were lost and formations broke. Soldiers trampled one another as bombardment tore through their ranks.

  “Around 300 mages are dead!” a scout reported, peering through a scope. “Normal soldiers, around 900 confirmed dead, and many more injured!”

  Cheers erupted along the walls. Shouts of victory echoed as the Imperial forces turned and fled, retreating back the way they had come. But Cedric and Devon did not smile.

  Devon’s eyes were fixed on Cedric’s hands.

  The emerald gems embedded in the gloves were crumbling. It started fracturing, then collapsing into fine dust that drifted away in the wind.

  “COUGH—!” Cedric staggered as he held his right hand over his mouth.

  Blood spilled from his lips as his left arm, the one that had thrown the spear, began to shake violently, muscles spasming as if rejecting his own body.

  “MEDIC!” Devon shouted as he caught Cedric in his arms.

  Figures in white gowns rushed forward at once, red crosses emblazoned across their backs. They laid Cedric on the ground and healing spells and bandages were hurriedly applied.

  Cedric let out a weak chuckle between ragged breaths.

  “Well,” he muttered, red staining his teeth, “guess age’s finally catching up to me… huh.”

  Devon clenched his fists. The Silver Bringer had saved the fortress and paid for it in blood.

  “Hope that was worth it…” Cedric murmured quietly as he was carried away by stretcher. “I hope that homunculus is really something…”

  [(0)]

  Wild Magic is a form of magic that defies normal understanding.

  Unlike standard magic, which can be learned through study, Wild Magic is something you are born with, unique to you alone. No two mages possess the same Wild Magic. Each one is different in power, use, and form.

  Some are blessed with incredible abilities: the power to summon storms, change gravity, or bend reality itself. Others awaken to far weaker abilities, perhaps changing the color of objects or warming their hands.

  The difference is enormous and completely random.

  The nature of Wild Magic is just as hard to understand. Consider the greatest Archmage in history, Artol Zenos, whose Wild Magic was "Love." Most would assume this meant charm or seduction.

  They would be wrong.

  His Wild Magic allowed him to use any magic created by those he loved. Artol loved humanity, or more precisely, he loved the humanity because they created magic, the actual thing he loved. Because of this, he could use all of their magic. This love for magic allowed him to earn the title of Archmage.

  Wild Magic remains deeply mysterious, as varied as the people who possess it.

  What remains constant is this: Wild Magic cannot be taught, cannot be copied, and cannot be stolen.

  For this reason, those born with strong Wild Magic are often feared, wanted, or both.

  - From the Textbook, “All you Need to Know about Wild Magic” by Bill Ottoson -